Trassel is a huge help with dodging the patrols, so things go alright for them. They even beat the others to the laundry room in the basement. 

Where she discovers a... Problem. 

Their plan had been for Inej to climb the inside of the incinerator chimney. It should be cool, and well within her abilities. 

The incinerator was supposed to run in the morning. 

It seems they ran it late, today. 

Well. Shit.

She'll need some padding, insulation.

...Unfortunately neither of them are Fabrikators...

...And she's almost tempted to offer to - knock out one of the druskelle and their wolves here. Steal their uniform and especially their badge. She could get away with it for a good while... And it might be safer than Inej trying to climb this. (Riskier to her, but... Safer to Inej, at least, and she's starting to kind of like the girl, even if they haven't talked much. And she knows Nina's friends with Inej.)

Odds are low the deception would last long enough to get them out.

They might be in trouble if they ran into other druskelle, but... She's pretty certain she can keep it going otherwise...

...On the other hand, she's not too sure she wants Kaz Brekker suspecting her of being a druskelle. 

That would get complicated.

Quickly. 

They'll see how Inej reacts to the bad news first, then. And try to get her the best insulation they can. 

(...And read Trassel in on what's going on while they're at it.)

Soon enough the rest of the party arrives in the laundry room.

She puts her slippers on first thing, flexes her toes to feel the supple rubber soles - 

And then grabs a spare shirt from the laundry bin, soaks it in water, and tosses it into the shaft. It starts to steam nearly immediately, and it falls, and before it even hits the coals it's burned away to nothing. 

Inej cranes her neck back, and quietly examines the rugged, hot brick. 

"Can you do it?" Kaz asks.

"Are there other options?" she asks, rhetorically, her voice flat - she clearly expects the answer to be 'none.'

"If it- kills you-"

"...Going back might kill us." She wishes she could take Kaz's hand. "And I don't run away." She squares her shoulders, and with a bravado she only somewhat feels: "I'll tell you if I can do it when we reach the top."

After a brief moment, Kaz tugs off her gloves and offers them to Inej. "Then you'll need these."

Bright grin! 

She takes the gloves carefully - doesn't touch Kaz's bare hands - and slips them on, testing their fit, the thin slits at the tips that let Kaz manipulate a deck of cards without issue... They fit well enough, though they're not made for her like they were for Kaz, but - 

"They're perfect," she says, and flexes her fingers. 

"Don't fall."

"Inej Ghafa never falls."

"Good."

And she turns to her task. 

First: drinking a cup of cold water. Second: soaking her hair and clothes in more cold water - the Fjerdans don't bother with anything other than frigid water for their prisoners, and it's actually a boon, here. Third: winding the seventy feet of rope (also soaked) that she'll need for getting the others up around her waist and chest. Fourth: putting on more layers all over her body, also soaked with the frigid water, until she's having to fight the urge to shiver. Fifth: drinking another cup of water.

And sixth: launching herself up the chimney, using her first burst of speed to get as far as she can. 

(The bricks feel like burning, and if she wasn't wearing Kaz's gloves she'd have blisters already. She tries to minimize contact between herself and the wall, though it's difficult - the wall is significantly hotter than the air, which is at least moving.)

Climb, Inej.

She gets pretty far - at least two out of the six stories up - before she slows, her muscles screaming at her, her pulse pounding in her entire body, her skin tight and flushed. The damp cloths wrapped around her forehead are a mercy, the only one she has - one she tries to hold close as she forces herself up, hand over hand, foot over foot - the mercy of Nina and her Fjerdan, seeing the problem first and then working to keep Inej safe - 

Climb.

She forces her hands between miniscule holds. She forces her feet to hold her. She slows to a jagged crawl. Her muscles tremble. Climb, Inej. The mercy of the ice is that she can't feel her body, numbed by cold before she plunged into this hell. That she can't feel the screaming. Climb.

Her foot slips. 

I don't slip.

She forces it back up, even as her weight jars through her shoulders - forces it into the next tiny crack first found by her finger. Climb, Inej. Her fingers are the only part of her body she can feel, the damp slide of leather against them, the heat before them. 

Climb.

Her other foot slips. 

Something is wrong. 

Her head's spinning. Light and heavy at once. The cloths are still slightly cool, no longer frigid - they aren't helping much - climb, Inej - 

She looks down despite herself. Tries to figure out what's wrong with her foot even though she shouldn't look back, should feel her way along and keep to that mantra of climb - 

The soles of her shoes are melting.

She hadn't felt the pain before. Hadn't even noticed. 

She does now. 

Her feet - 

Climb, Inej - 

But how can she, when her feet are burning, when her shoes are melting into her skin - 

Climb.

She puts her weight on her hands. Lets go with one. Her other hand isn't happy. She grabs, hauls herself up another few inches. 

Her foot skids. Climb, Inej - 

But she can't. 

Her body thuds against the wall, the faint remnants of moisture on her clothes hissing and fading away. Her feet slide out, hang uselessly below her in the fire. Her body screams, waking up all at once to the immense task before her. To the hell around her. 

Her fingers can barely hold their grip. They scream louder than anything. Louder than the rest of her body. 

Climb, she says.

Let go, say her fingers.

She can't. 

She can't climb. She can't do it. But she can't let go. Can't run away, not even by dying. Can't fail her team.

Can't leave Kaz alone. "If it- kills you-"

Just let go. 

She won't. 

Inej tightens her fingers, focuses on the leather glove stretched above her head - she can't see very well - focuses on Kaz's face, on what Kaz has given up to protect her, to enable her. 

Fuck 'can she.'

Fuck climbing. 

Inej grits her teeth, focuses on the tiny - growing - patch of grey sky far above - 

And a drop of cold rain hits her face. 

She doesn't know if she still believes in her childhood saints. Doesn't know if she believes in anyone else but herself and those who stand beside her in the dark. 

But she definitely believes in being an opportunistic bastard.

The misting rain cools the brick - starts to wet her drying clothes - and it isn't making things slick yet, but it will soon - 

Inej scrapes her shoes against the brick until they slide off - they're still dangerously hot, and they're not helping - and digs her blistering toes into the brick - 

And she ascends.

The Elderclock had chimed the first quarter bell perhaps a few minutes before Inej started. 

It chimes the three quarter bell as snow and rain and frigid wind descend like howling wolves on the city - as rain falls onto the hot coals. 

It hasn't chimed eight bells yet when one end of the knotted rope drops down before them, swaying - and offering a far easier way up than the one Inej took. 

That's her girl!!

They'd considered even before Inej went up that one or both of the Corporalki should climb the rope first. It'd become unquestioned for them both to go when they saw Inej slip.

The Fjerdan goes first; she's stronger, especially after her time in Hellgate, and she reaches the top in record time and then settles in to examining - stabilizing - Inej.

Nina's not too far after her, and takes over the treatment. Those shoes will be a problem.

Inej got the shoes off on her own, when they started to melt. That... May or may not have helped. 

The bleeding isn't bad, at least, from where she yanked rubber from skin. The rubber stuck to her skin instead around the heel of her foot; the ball of her foot is bleeding the worst. 

Her toes aren't bleeding. Probably because they're too burnt. 

Her hands have fared much better, at least - the leather protected them surprisingly well - but the gloves are badly scorched, the leather crumbling and brittle, and she hasn't tried removing them yet. 

She's suffering from bad heat exhaustion in general - not quite heat stroke, not yet, but her skin is clammy and her eyes are having trouble focusing, her pupils blown wide, and her ankles and wrists are swollen. She's conscious, though, and watching the chimney for anyone coming up - and she'd gotten to a better hidden location by the time Nina made her way up. 

This is pushing the limits of Nina's competence. She'll do what she can, but she's not a specialist.